Apprehension, Shattered Illusions of Safety I
by Tonks-is-cool
Summary: AU HBP July 1996: Harry told Voldemort the prophesy and what really happened during COS year. Concerned for his Horcruxes, LV leaves Malfoy Manor to check up on the Gaunt Ring. What will he find in Little Hangleton? Set in Rise of the Dark Angel Universe!
1. A Close Call

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter series is created and owned by JK Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic/Warner Bros, not me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**AN-1:** Before beginning, a thank-you shall be given to the famous HP-lexicon and HP-Wiki for their wonderful organization of everything HP-related.

**Timeframe**: A day at the end of July 1996, in the summer before Harry´s sixth year at Hogwarts.

******Summary and Setting:** Previously, Harry told the Dark Lord the prophesy and what exactly happened during Harry´s second year in the COS and afterwards. Voldemort is furious and concerned about his Horcruxes, so he leaves Malfoy Manor to check up on the Gaunt ring. What will he find in Little Hangleton?

This is the first of the **Additional-Scenes-Series** to the fanfiction **Rise of the Dark Angel** by Mykkila09 and Tonks-is-cool**, **which is an AU HBP Dark!Harry story. What happens in SIOS I. and during chapter 6 and 7 of RDA will be picked up again when Harry and Voldemort discuss it (and the involvement of Dumbledore and Regulus) in "Just Talking?" SIOS IV., which takes place chronically during and after chapter 11 of RDA.

**Rating:** RDA is rated M for a reason, so I generally rate SIOS stories accordingly as T or M, because of the Violence, Character Deaths and the like. Not suitable for kids!

"Talking"_  
'Spell' _cast voice-less, otherwise_ "Spell"  
{Parssseltongue}_ that´s Voldemort, Harry or Nagini talking with a_ hisssss _or spells in Parsel Magic invented by Salazar Slytherin.  
#Command in the Necromancer´s lingua mortuus,#" used for example to control a Dementor or an Inferius in the Language of Death. Some Dark wizards study this or some special Ministry personal like a few Unspeakables or Auror commanders guarding Azkaban._  
Letter or commentary/introduction and flashback  
_~…~_ indicates scene change_

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Close Call**

The tall trees cast deep, dark, cool shadows upon the forest floor. Although it was the middle of the summer and before noon, there was only dim light under these mighty trunks, mist hung in the chilly air.

With a soft _Pop_, Lord Voldemort appeared next to a mighty, gnarled oak, strangled in climbing ivy. Silently casting the Disillusionment Charm upon himself, he continued with _'Homenum Revelio'_ to scan the immediate vicinity for any other human life. Nothing, as it should be.

Standing in the middle of a thicket composed of pines, oak, beech, ash, alder and hazel, some overgrown hedges and bramble barely visible through the trees, he looked around carefully. Everything was quiet, apart from some birds singing in the trees above and the faint sound of muggle cars and a dog barking in the distance.

Voldemort hissed _{Specialis Revelio}_ under his breath and waved his wand in a wide circle around himself to check upon the Parselmagic charms he had placed around the old shack. A bit to the right, the plants showed up as a bright greenness, but in the middle was an odd nothingness. It was almost as if there was a hazy outline where the brambles and bushes met another bush. That was where the cottage was hidden. Everything seemed fine, undisturbed.

Nevertheless, he would not become careless now, so he cast _'Ascendio_' on himself and shot up in the air until he was level with the tree tops. Peering amongst the branches, Voldemort could make out the winding dirt track close to the Gaunt cottage that led down to the valley of Little Hangleton. Looking across the valley, he glimpsed Riddle Manor on the other hillside.

He cast _'Homenum Revelio_' again, but with more power compared to the first time, so the spell scanned the area half a mile around him. There was somebody, one human, in the direction of Great Hangleton. The high hedgerows flanking the lane hid the person. Anger flared up at this disturbance, but he hoped it was only a muggle, walking on the main lane to Little Hangleton, and not a wizard. If the person was a wizard, they might have felt the spell sweeping over them, alerting them to the fact that another wizard was in the vicinity.

Voldemort felt his unease growing, so he cancelled the ascending spell and glided down to the forest floor again. Then he cast a Parselmagic proximity ward to warn him if a human came closer than a quarter mile, which would happen if that traveller left the main lane through the gap in the hedge and used the rough dirt path to the shack and Little Hangleton. A second ward would alert him should the person leave the dirt track and approach the cottage. It could be simply a harmless muggle, walking his dog, hiking or picking berries, but if not, if it was a wizard, maybe even Dumbledore...

He scoffed at such a preposterous idea. What an impossible coincidence that would be! However, he had learned to expect the unexpected after hearing all about Potter´s outlandish adventures and impossible deeds, so he decided to cast "_Cave Inimicum_" for good measure; this charm would warn him should an enemy (and Dumbledore certainly qualified as The Enemy Number One) cross the second ward near the cottage.

Voldemort strode towards the hazy outline until he felt a slight disorientation and the urge to turn around, so the wards worked as they should. He concentrated to remember the passwords to his Parselmagic wards, which he had erected more than half a lifetime ago. He did not want to cast the counter-charms; it was prudent to let the protection stay in place, in case a hapless muggle or a certain unwanted 'guest' turned up.

A whispered _{My grandfather'sss house}_ let him feel a sharp sting on his skin as he passed through the first layer of concealment wards that created the illusion of brambles and bushes instead of a man made building. Whispering _{I sssee the truth}_ and taking another step forward he passed through another layer of charms, ones designed to make anybody wandering around the forest or hiking up the dirt track nearby to look away and see nothing where in fact was a crumbling cottage. The urge to turn around and run from this place was increasing with each step forward, but hissing the last password, _{The heir may enter}_ solved that problem immediately.

When he had hid the ring in this shack all those years ago, he had deliberately not cast any of the usual neutral or grey magic muggle repelling charms or wards on the building that were used to protect for example Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, the Ministry, St. Mungos or Diagon Alley.

A powerful muggle repelling charm in this thicket near a common, unimportant muggle village would have surely aroused at least curiosity or even suspicion, should some wizard accidentally – or with intend - come upon this place. Another drawback was that Voldemort would have had to come back to reinforce it every year, or to send one of his Death Eaters to do that; this would have been very inconvenient and dangerous.

His Dark Arts concealment wards were much more deceptive, subtle and long lasting, rooted to the area around the cottage with a dark ritual using a triple life sacrifice, with lives forcibly and painfully taken. The filthy, stinking pieces of disgusting muggle tramps that Voldemort had caught sleeping in the shack had been of double worth in their death, much more than ever in their insignificant lives. He had drenched the ground around the cottage with their blood and used the deaths to create another Horcrux.

The Gaunt shack was as decrepit and abandoned as he had remembered. It was build from mismatched and mossy old stones. The door was painted a faded dark green; a shriveled, long dead snake was nailed to the door, a morbid sight for someone like Voldemort who actually liked serpents and cherished his familiar, Nagini. The tiles had fallen of half the roof and the chimney stones were crumbling as well. The space around the house was overgrown with weeds and nettles, reaching up to the small windows, which were cracked and grimy. It was quite an eyesore.

What a shame that the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin had been reduced to live in such abject poverty. No matter, he, Lord Voldemort, had restored the power of the founder´s house. When he won the war, the name Slytherin would be revered again.

Voldemort waved his hand at the door and whispered {_Open_} to unlock it. The door swung open and he walked forward into the room. Not much light filtered in through the tiny, grimy windows and the holes in the roof, so he lightened up his wand with a mere thought '_Lumos_' to survey the interior.

Inside it stank of mildew and the dust was an inch thick on every surface. There were no new footprints in the dust, only some small animal tracks of mice or rats maybe. Two doors led off the main room. The walls were made of rough stones, same as the outside, only without the moss. A filthy armchair huddled in a corner, a grimy black potbellied stove stood on the left hand side, a shelf with pots and pans above it. The fireplace in the middle of the room was filled with ash and soot. Voldemort´s lip curled in disgust.

Then the Dark Lord gasped in astonishment and irritation, the sudden yank in his awareness told him that the outer ward had been breached; the person on the lane had crossed the gap in the hedgerow.

He must hasten to retrieve the ring, should this person indeed turn out to be ... no, he squashed that thought immediately, strengthening his Occlumency shields and calming his thoughts. He had to focus; it would be so embarrassing to trigger one of his own protection curses...

The dark wizard carefully approached the stone wall of the chimney behind the fireplace, stopping about ten feet from it. He aimed his wand at the side of the fireplace, where the stones of the fireplace met the stones of the chimney, and moved it repetitive in a quick, narrow zigzag pattern, hissing _{Ego sum amicusss serpents} _nine times. This dispelled the first protection ward, {_Plures serpensortia maxima}_, that would have set nine poisonous vipers on the intruder. Salazar Slytherin himself had created this dark protection ward; Voldemort had found the description in a Parselmagic book in the Chamber of Secrets as a student. The number of vipers created and the radius of the protected area was variable, depending on the intent of the caster. The counter-curse _Vipera Evanesca _did not work against them, like against a snake conjured with _Serpensortia_.

Next, he moved his wand in a wide figure eight, chanting _"Tantum amicus penetro"_ a few times until a bluish flame flickered around the chimney. This took the second protection ward down, that would have taken care of the potential thief, should he have survived the vipers somehow, burning him from the inside out with the _Incendio interna_ Curse_._

Voldemort smirked, imagining Dumbledore trying to steal his ring, he would have gotten quite a nasty surprise. Even should the thief overcome the vipers and the fire (which was extremely unlikely), the ring was additionally protected.

He cast a quick _'Scourgify'_ on the dirty floor and crouched down, tapping the stones of the lower part of the chimney in a specific pattern: Three to the right, nine above, seven diagonally left down. One of the roughly hewn stones, a small one, shifted to the side.

Inside the small hollow space was a finely carved ebony box, the lid inlaid with ivory and Chinese emerald green jade, creating the picture of a coiled, serpentine dragon. Voldemort smiled; this box was a fond memento of his travels to Asia long ago. He carefully swished and flicked his wand at the small box, deftly guiding it out of its hiding place and onto the floor.

Just as he was about to tap the box to open it, his head jerked up and around in the direction of the door: the second protection charm shrilled in his mind. It had seemed so improbable, yet there was no doubt:

Dumbledore himself was approaching the shack.

~TBC~

Next time in Shattered Illusions of Safety: Part 2: Snatching the Ring

~...~

**AN2:** The spells in RDA and SIOS are either spells used in the official HP books, films or games according to the HP-lexicon and HP-Wiki or are made up by me. If the Latin isn´t perfect, it is all my fault, as I used an online translator. If someone knows better, please tell me in a PM. Thank you!


	2. Snatching the Ring

Chapter 2: Snatching the Ring

Disclaimer and Explanations please see chapter 1.

~oOo~

_Last time in Shattered Illusions of Safety, A Close Call:_

_Just as he was about to tap the box to open it, his head jerked up and around in the direction of the __door: the second protection charm shrilled in his mind. It had seemed so improbable, yet there was no doubt: _

_Dumbledore himself was approaching the shack._

_~.~_

Anger, confusion, fear and dread flooded over the Dark Lord. How in Salazar´s name had Dumbledore found out about Voldemort´s relations to the long dead Gaunt family? There was no doubt the headmaster had walked straight from the lane towards the Gaunt cottage, with no hesitation whatsoever. He must have already known where it was located. How was that possible?

Voldemort was utterly shocked, filled with fury and relieved at the same time. Well, that was close, too close. Had Harry not told him today about the prophesy, the chamber of secrets and the diary, had he not left Malfoy Manor shortly after hearing the distressing news, who knows what might have happened.

Perhaps his protections would have been sufficient, perhaps not. Some of Harry´s incredible luck seemed to have transferred to him for a change. Thanks to Hecate, the Morrighan, Salazar, or whoever had watched over him today!

He forced his raging emotions behind his Occlumency shields and focused back on the small box, hissing _{Open}_ and tapping it with his wand. The lock clicked and the lid sprang open.

There the ancient heirloom lay on a bed of green silk, untarnished and all right. He felt profound relief wash over him and resisted the urge to pick up the ring at once. Quickly he breathed _{Close}_, the lid snapped down, the lock clicked shut again. Voldemort conjured a large, black silk handkerchief and carefully wrapped the box inside, without touching the wood with his bare fingers, because he remembered that he had prepared the box so that poisoned needles would jump out as soon as a human hand touched the wood. On top of that, the ring itself was well protected, with a deadly dark curse that activated instantly if anybody besides Voldemort himself tried to wear it on his hand.

Stuffing the now safe box in a deep pocket of his black robes, he waved his wand over the wall so that the stone slid back into its normal position with a low grinding noise. After taking a few steps back, he cast the protection curses again. Should anyone gain entry, he or she would be welcome to snoop around until they triggered the curses and paid with their lives. Nobody had any business to enter here save Voldemort.

Quickly walking over to the side of the narrow window besides the front door, he peered outside. There he was, the greatest meddler of the age, sporting garish purple brocade robes with a curly neon pink pattern. Was the old man completely daft, wearing clothes like that so close to a muggle village? Dumbledore was staring straight at the Gaunt cottage, swishing his wand around, murmuring incantation after incantation of diagnostic charms. He was trying to figure out the wards.

Voldemort felt conflicted. Should he attack Dumbledore? He was still under the disillusionment charm, and it looked like Dumbledore could not see or sense him. Well this was a significant advantage. The old wizard might suspect another wizard to be inside the house or nearby or that he had already left, if he had felt that searching spell, but the way the old man was casting increasingly advanced detection and unlocking spells upon the bushes and brambles before him... he seemed very preoccupied.

Of course, there was always the possibility that the cunning, manipulative Phoenix leader wished to create just this impression, that he was so vulnerable, easy prey for an attacker... to provoke the other wizard into an attack and then to spring some trap.

Before the disaster at the Ministry last month and his talk with Harry today about the prophesy and the diary, Voldemort would not have considered to hold back at all. He would have been so sure of his powers. He would have reacted impulsively, let his rage and fear about the possible discovery and destruction of his precious Horcrux lead him into an all out fight, like his fury over the loss of the prophesy had at the Ministry last month.

However, acting like that had led to his downfall fifteen years back.

It might be better to avoid this confrontation for now, instead to Apparate at once to the cave and check upon the locket. After all, that was much more important than fighting with Dumbledore today. Besides, Harry and the Lestrangers would be so disappointed if they never got their chance on revenge, if he killed the headmaster now... and he looked forward to see them playing with the puppet master.

The dark wizard could not get the smirk of his face, as he cast a silencing spell on his feet and the creaky door hinges. He slipped out the door in complete silence and locked the door again. He stood only some twenty feet from the Leader of the Light, who seemed completely unaware that any second a curse could hit him right in the face.

Fascinating, utterly remarkable; Voldemort felt very proud of his wards and smirked, again. This proved the superiority of the Dark Arts in another way. Dumbledore was such a fool!

Dumbledore had not made much progress according to his mutterings. The old man walked slowly to the side, turned, then walked a few feet back and moved forwards slowly, while holding out his left hand. He carefully moved it from left to right, as if attempting to touch the image of the bushes, while the right hand firmly held the wand. Aha, he had finally found the right spot, the smoky nothingness. He must now feel the overwhelming need to turn around and leave by now, so close to the cottage. What would the old wizard try now?

Dumbledore sighted and spoke under his breath in a disdainful tone, "Surely not. Oh Tom. Maybe you require some payment for entrance?"

Suddenly he pulled out a short knife and slashed his left forearm open. Scarlet drops dripped upon the nettles and brambles; he flicked his hand to fling some blood at the bushes in front of the shack. The old wizard stood there, poised, waiting. However, nothing happened, no gateway opened up as Dumbledore obviously had expected. He pocketed the knife again.

This greatly amused Voldemort on the one hand, on the other hand, it distressed and enraged him, because this was exactly the way to open up the entrance protecting his cave. There a sacrifice of fresh blood to the stonewall was required indeed.

Had the old man already discovered the cave and the locket? What a dreadful possibility!

Voldemort slunk a few steps to the left into the deep shadow at the outer edge of the wards beside a tall, dark tree that stood very close to the shack.

Still no visible reaction from Dumbledore, who was busy healing his forearm with his wand at this very moment. Then Voldemort concentrated on his Parseltongue passwords. Whispering them as low as possible, he stepped through the triple layers of concealment wards.

He was well hidden from Dumbledore in the tree´s shadow, still under the Disillusionment Charm. Swiftly he stepped around the tree, voice-less casting a dark spell on the weeds in front of the shack, transfiguring them into a kind of Devils Snare, urging them to grow rapidly, to pull down and strangle the magical person closest to them. For good measure, he added _'Serpensortia'_. This attack would of course not kill a wizard of Dumbledore´s abilities; but it would suffice to distract and annoy him for a moment.

Dumbledore detected a movement out of the corner of his right eye combined with a faint whisper and whipped around at once, wand raised ready for battle. He conjured a shield around himself, just in case a Death Eater, who was here on watch duty, should fling a dark curse at him from behind the tree.

Suddenly Dumbledore noticed the rapidly blackening brambles and nettles around him, changing into Devils Snares, which actually attempted to trip and overwhelm him! One of the stinging nettles tried to wrestle his wand out of his hand, what impertinence!

Something else moved rapidly on the ground, shooting towards him under the twisting, changing foliage, some animal, some – large snake, a Cobra! Dumbledore jumped back with astonishing agility for such an ancient wizard.

"You`re too late, old man!" Voldemort mocked in that moment, before he spun around and Disapparated.

Dumbledore let out an angry cry of downright frustration. Then he swished his wand around him, conjuring a fiery whip to burn the aggressive undergrowth that tore his fine purple brocade robe to shreds. He quickly got rid of the Cobra that had sunk its fangs into his dragon hide boot, (lucky for him that he had chosen to wear these extra high boots today) before he Disapparated back to Hogwarts; nursing his wounded pride and contemplating the day's events in the comfort of his office.

How had Tom known he would search the old Gaunt cottage today? Had there been some ward to warn Tom, that Dumbledore had involuntary triggered, when he had approached the place Bob Ogden had described? Alternatively, was this encounter simply an unfortunate coincidence? Dumbledore had taken great care to keep his research of Tom´s past and the Horcruxes a secret; he had not spoken with Severus about this on purpose, lest Tom learn anything from the spy.

What kind of dark wards had Tom erected around the Gaunt shack that he, the greatest wizard of this age, could not penetrate?

Why had Tom not attacked in earnest, instead chosen to only taunt him and then Disapparated away?

The bowl of Sherbet lemons on the headmaster's desk held no answers at all to his questions.

~ TBC ~


	3. Counting Inferi

Chapter 3: Counting Inferi

Disclaimer and Explanations please see chapter 1.

~oOo~

_Last time in Shattered Illusions of Safety, Snatching the Ring_

_"You`re too late, old man!" Voldemort mocked in that moment, before he spun around and Disappareted._

The Dark Lord Apparated onto the top of a rocky, windswept cliff overlooking the rolling sea with a quit _Pop_.

The salty wind pushed him back, tore at his robe, nearly robbing his breath; the air was tangy from salt and seaweed; a spray of tiny drops hit his face. Seagulls shrieked overhead, endless waves crashed against boulders far down below the cliff. Ruby red eyes swept over the desolate landscape, there were no houses or trees around, and only short grassland covered the ground up to the precipice of the cliff. The sight was limited due to the fog that came rolling in from the open sea.

Voldemort remembered that this barren place was roughly one and a half mile from the nearest seaside village. It was a typical small muggle resort: There was a tiny harbour, a parking lot, some trivial shops, some pubs and a gravel beach. East of the village were more cliffs, with a footpath down a ravine to a nice cove; on the sheltered pebble beach the children from the orphanage had bathed and played once upon a time. There was a coastal hiking path hugging the cliffs, however any muggle tourists would most likely go in the other direction towards the cove, not clamber around on these harsh cliffs. Not that anybody could see him, as he still was under the Disillusionment Charm since Little Hangleton.

He swept his wand around him, casting _'Homenum Revelio'_ to scan the vicinity in a circle of half a mile for any other human life; the spell revealed nothing. At least something appeared to go better than at Little Hangleton – so far. Prudence was a virtue today, so he again cast the quarter mile Proximity ward and _'Cave Inimicum'_ to warn him if any enemies should approach.

Underneath the cliff, hidden inside a fissure in the rocks, was a large cave, which he had discovered as a child. Before this huge cavern was a smaller cave with a hidden entrance, connected to the sea outside through a narrow, high tide flooded tunnel. Should an enemy seek to find it, they would have to Apparate to some slippery boulders and rocks below the cliff and swim from there in the cold water through the tunnel, because of the Anti-Apparation and Anti-Disapparation wards that covered the area.

The dark wizard was concerned after the narrow pass in Little Hangleton. He never anticipated that Dumbledore would discover the Gaunt shack.

Yet he had. So, now that the impossible had become cold reality, it was not anymore out of the question that this hiding place for one of his precious safeguards had also become compromised.

Had Dumbledore discovered his cave already or not? That the old wizard had suspected those blood magic powered wards at the Gaunt shack was disturbing.

Well if Dumbledore dared to sneak into his cave, it would be quite uncomfortable for him. Hopefully the meddlesome old bastard would drown on the way in the dark, churning, cold sea. Or the Inferi inside the cave would pull him underneath the surface of the lake, should he gain entrance and then step into the water by accident. If he should reach the island, the poison would surely stop the old wizard. The Dark Lord felt reassured by these mental images.

Apparating to the smaller entrance cave, the atrium, he reappeared in total blackness. The only sound was the churning of the waves outside, which echoed eerily in the tunnel. Lighting up the ceiling of the cave with a hissed _{Luminarum}_ that conjured several green lamp like orbs, he first cancelled the Disillusionment Charm and then began casting _'Specialis Revelio_' several times in a circle on the walls and the floor, turning slowly around himself.

At once, the bright outline of an entryway appeared on the eastern wall before him, man high. The doorway was locked with a dark charm that required freshly spilled blood of the wizard desiring to enter; a simple application of blood magic designed to frighten and weaken an intruder, especially a light wizard. No other recently cast magic showed up in the diagnostic charm; this was a good sign that this place was undisturbed.

Quickly Voldemort walked closer and carefully inspected the smooth stone wall and the rough floor of the cave. Everything looked untouched, nothing lying around, no human footprints in the dust on the ground, no visible blood splatters on the wall.

To confirm this he silently cast _'Cruento exsto'_ while waving his wand to the left and right at the cave wall and above the floor in front of the archway, watching the scan intently for any colour changes to appear. There was no trace of freshly spilled blood; however, there appeared a faint dark brown image of old drops of blood about four feet from the ground.

Frowning, he pondered this evidence, his unease increasing again. What was that? Had someone attempted to enter the cave several years ago? Who? Well, he would do a count of the Inferi inside the lake, if there were more than before...

He placed a hand onto the stone of the faintly glowing entrance and muttered _{Open}_. The wall became more transparent for him and he walked through as if it was just smoke. Behind him, the stones solidified again to look completely impenetrable.

Rising his wand high in the still air of this much larger cave, he again cast _{Luminarum}_. At once, several globes flamed up hovering under the ceiling, gently illuminating the large cave with a green light. It was a mighty cavern, with a smooth black lake inside. From the far side a green glow emitted from a small island in the lake.

Voldemort walked alongside the eerily still black water on the rough stone ledge. Everything looked as it should be, quiet and undisturbed, but looks could be deceiving. Well, there was a simple way to find out if another wizard had dared to enter his secret place.

Turning to face the lake, he commanded, "# Rise up, my guardians! #" in the Necromancer´s lingua mortuus.

The black lake suddenly heaved and sizzled. With a deafening splash hundreds of bodies shot towards the surface and crowded along the edge of the churning water, turning their sickly pale faces and misty white eyes towards the Dark Lord, water dripping from their torn clothes.

There were men, woman and children; some appeared to wear muggle clothes, the majority were men draped in typical wizard robes. The dead bodies shuffled, then quietly stood at attention, their feet still in the water. There were so many rows of Inferi, that those farther away were submerged to the chest, only their shoulders, necks and head visibly above the now again calm black water.

Waving his wand over them, he did quick headcount with, _"Duco caput capitis"_. The spell displayed glowing red roman numbers in the air in front of him, '_CCCLXXXVII._'

Cold dread settled in his gut, exploding into anger a moment later. He was sure the last count seventeen years ago had been three hundred and eighty-six. Therefore, there was one more body in the lake indeed, a new Inferius. A thief had found the cave and attempted or perhaps even managed to steal his Horcrux!

~ TBC ~

A/N1: Thank you so much for the friendly reviews and adding this story to your Favs and Alerts.


	4. Something wicked this way comes

Chapter 4: Something wicked this way comes

Disclaimer and Explanations please see chapter 1.

~oOo~

_Last time in Shattered Illusions of Safety, Counting Inferi:_

_Voldemort waved his wand over them, doing a quick headcount with, "Duco caput capitis". The spell displayed glowing red roman numbers in the air in front of him, 'CCCLXXXVII.'_

_Cold dread settled in his gut, exploding into anger a moment later. He was sure the last count had been three hundred and eighty-six. Therefore, there was one more body in the lake indeed, a new Inferius. A thief had found the cave and attempted or perhaps even managed_ _to steal his Horcrux!_

The Dark Lord´s worst fear had come true. Panic and fury threatened to cloud his judgment.

That should have been impossible!  
Had Dumbledore found the cave?  
How in Salazar´s name?  
But ... if Dumbledore alone had tried to steal the Horcrux, he would be dead, however he was alive, so what had happened?

Voldemort´s frenzied thoughts churned to a stop. He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down, to push his violent emotions behind his Occlumency barriers (Harry was most likely suffering a severe headache right now) and to analyze this situation and the facts logically.

There was a new corpse, a new Inferius, so this person either had touched the water before he reached the island, or after.  
Both possibilities were equally probable.

There was a trace of old blood on the entrance archway.  
This blood could be of the corpse in the water, or from somebody else who had accompanied him or her.

The chance that a random muggle had swum into the entrance cave through the dark, narrow tunnel, and then had accidentally splattered blood from an fresh injury exactly on the right spot on the wall, thereby opening the archway, stumbling into the cave, falling into the lake... this was extremely unlikely.

Therefore, the blood was from a wizard; a wizard had been here, many years ago.

Dumbledore was alive, well he was half an hour ago, if the Devils Snare and the Cobra had not killed him. Now if Dumbledore was alive, someone else had died here. Who? He had found no evidence so far that revealed the identity of the intruder.

Had the headmaster entered the cave with a companion? Did this somebody die, while Dumbledore escaped? Maybe. Not impossible. Probable.

Would Dumbledore sacrifice the life of an Order member for the 'Greater Good?'  
Yes, he would; Voldemort knew Dumbledore only too well. Behind his grandfatherly facade, he was the determined leader of the Light, a competitive chess player and the wizard who had defeated Grindelwald, the former Dark Lord.  
A man that did to Harry and Neville what he did and that condemned an innocent man to a life sentence in Azkaban like Harry´s godfather, was ruthless enough.

Of course, Dumbledore never would admit that ... or outright tell his followers that they were merely pawns on this large as life chessboard in his personal little war with the current Dark Lord.

Did the thief or thieves reach the island with the pedestal? Where was the boat?

Voldemort dismissed the army of Inferi by commanding them, "#Rest, keep vigil, my guardians.#"

The grotesque bodies turned as one and staggered back into the lake, soon floating peacefully under the surface.

The dark wizard walked further along the edge of the lake, until the island in the middle of the lake was exactly opposite. With a tap of his wand, a glowing chain rose up from the water, soon pulling up a tiny, ghostly green boat. The boat was whole, not damaged and bobbed at the edge of the lake, ready to take off.

Pacing back and forth, he pondering the possibilities. If somebody had managed to cross the water in the boat and drink the poison in the basin on the island, he could have taken the locket out, or he stopped drinking, while there was still some potion in the basin. In any case, the burning poison should have overwhelmed him, so that he tried to drink water from the lake to quench his desperate thirst. Then the Inferi would have pulled the person down into the lake to drown him.

Either the locket was still inside the basin, it could have fallen into the lake or it was still laying on the ground of the island where the thief had dropped it.  
Or, another possibility, a second thief had picked it up, somehow escaped the Inferi and had taken the locket out of the cave...

With _'Accio Slyterin´s Locket_' Voldemort attempted to summon his Horcrux.

An instant later, an Inferius sprang dramatically out of the water, but no locket appeared.

"#Its alright, rest, keep vigil,#" he controlled the Inferius, who slid back into the black lake with a loud splash.

If the locket still was where it was supposed to be, he would need a victim to drink the poison in the basin to check. The special proprieties of the potion blocked the summoning or vanishing spell.

Two persons could cross the lake in the small boat – but not two grown, adult wizards at the same time:  
only one grown wizard and a muggle, or a wizard child, or a wizard and a house elf. Like he himself had sailed across the lake seventeen years ago, with that house elf from the Black family, which he had left to die on the island after testing the potion on it.

Now that he had reached this point in his contemplations, Voldemort felt a profound unease.

Whoever had come into the cavern could not have known beforehand how the Horcrux was protected exactly, could he? Then how did they do that? Was it possible that one of his Death Eaters had betrayed him?

He had told none of them that he had made Horcruxes or that his heirlooms were of such immense value. Perhaps that had been a mistake, as the whole fiasco with Lucius and the diary had brought to light. Voldemort remembered that he had alluded to have taken means against death. That he had gone farther than any man before him. Well, all the old Dark pureblood families did have a library with Dark arts tomes; so it was possible that one of his Death Eaters had done some research, just the same as he did as a student. But who? And even if one of his followers suspected that he had dallied with Horcruxes, they still didn´t know anything about this cave. He had never disclosed where he kept his Inferi army hidden. The Inferi groups that he had used in the last war were always transported with a portkey to the intended target area.

Severus as his young potions master had brewed the poison, yes that was true. Nevertheless, Severus could not have betrayed him like this, because he had never told him how and where he would use the poison, to protect something valuable in a special hiding place.

He had told the potions master the proprieties for a new poisonous potion that he should develop.  
The potion should be impossible to vanish by normal charms like Scourgify or Evanesco,  
or to be transfigured into other fluids like water or wine;  
it should cause physical pain, a burning sensation in the stomach.  
It must cause a feeling of desperate thirst.  
It was designed to force the subject to relive their most painful memories, similar to a Dementor;  
an effect that was truly difficult to achieve, this was much more than causing a simple hallucination.  
In the end, the poison should slowly and most painfully kill the subject, if no antidote was administered on time.

Severus had shown his remarkable talent and excelled in creating this new potion; he had assumed his Lord wanted this poison for torture and interrogation; they had talked about that while Severus was researching in his Lord´s library on fine-tuning the potion.

Who else had known anything about this cave or the locket in the past decades?

He had never talked to one of his Death Eaters about this cave. Very few had seen him wearing the locket after he had acquired it. Maybe he had once mentioned something about it being Slytherin´s Locket, to impress them.

He had killed the old Miss Smith who had owned the locket (and the Hufflepuff cup) for a while. Her relatives maybe had seen the locket and the cup once, that was possible, but Miss Smith had guarded them so possessively.  
Voldemort had thought that nobody else had a reason to connect these items to him, the young clerk working for Borgin and Burkes.

Was it possible that a Smith relative noticed exactly what was missing after her death?  
And that this relative was – Voldemort sucked in a shocked breath at this idea – questioned by Dumbledore many years later? Did Dumbledore interrogate his former employer, old Mr. Burkes and connect the dots?

That would mean that Dumbledore was searching and digging around in Tom Riddles past for years.

Voldemort seethed with fury, again. He had been sure that he had been careful, covering all of his tracks. Now this! Of course, this was all just wild speculation, but now that he thought about it... he could not banish these fears from his mind again.

When talking to Nagini earlier, he had already contemplated that Dumbledore might have spoken or would attempt to speak to Horace Slughorn, his former head of house – but this would be on an altogether different scale, if Dumbledore was ingenious and relentlessly enough to discover such information about him.

What about those two kids he had forced down into this cave as a child? Well they didn´t talk anymore, they were completely traumatized. Now they would be old people, they were only filthy, disgusting muggles after all. How would anybody connect these nameless, faceless muggles to him, Lord Voldemort?

Could Dumbledore have found them, questioned them or used Legilimency and thereby unearthed information about this cave from their childhood memories? What an utterly improbable suggestion!

Nevertheless – the fact remained, somebody had entered this cave, died and become a new Inferius. Just how had Dumbledore discovered the Gaunt cottage today? There had to be an explanation, however strange or farfetched.

Voldemort paced restlessly around the ledge besides the lake and growled in profound frustration. This was an enigma, a mystery if there ever was one. He could not solve it with this limited information.

Logic dictated that Dumbledore was searching in earnest, and somehow he had found information about the young Tom Riddle. Dumbledore knew about the diary since three years, a long time. The danger to lose his precious safeguards was to close, to real.

He needed to verify if the locket was still in the basin or not. Casting a _'Tempus'_ he checked the time, it was afternoon by now.

The Dark Lord turned around and strode out of the cavern. From the entrance cave he Apparated first back to the top of the cliff. After verifying that nobody was in the vicinity and concealing himself again, he Apparated to a sheltered spot on the other side of the little seaside village nearby. The rain and fog had cleared somewhat while he was in the cave, the sun struggling through the clouds had warmed the air, compared to an hour before.

There were a few Muggles around the harbour and on the gravel beach, obviously 'enjoying the fresh air'; Voldemort snorted quietly. Four men were standing or sitting right at the shore with long fishing rods; not very far away in the opposite direction, five smaller children and a group of teenagers were bathing, jumping around laughing and screeching loudly in the surf, despite the relatively chilly air and the fresh wind.

A few more teenagers were not in the water, but sitting together above the water´s edge. They looked out at the rough waters of the sea, white caps dancing across the tops of waves as they crashed against the shoreline.

Some more Muggles, the elder people most likely the parents or grandparents of the children, were sitting either on the mole or on the terrace of the nearby pub; next to this house was a small fish and chips place , he would not call _that_ a restaurant.

Voldemort watched the tourists dispassionately. He preferred a victim that was alone; he did not want to cause a scene just now... maybe later, depending on what he would find on the island. He vibrated with nervous energy, if it turned out that the locket was gone...

The teenagers were shoving each other and splashing around; they made quite a lot of racket. This seemed to disturb another teenager, a young brunette haired woman, who made a gesture at them and said something in an angry voice; Voldemort was too far away to understand the words. The girl turned, picked up her towel, a book and her backpack and left the group.

She walked along the gravel shore past the anglers, and then veered off to climb up to the coastal patch that led along the cliff top to the sheltered, secluded cove about three quarters of a mile away. The Dark Lord perked up, this was fortunate; an evil smile stretched his lips.

He slowly glided after the girl, keeping a safe distance for now, waiting until she had turned the bend in the path that would block the view to the village and beach behind them. He was nearly invisible, still disillusioned; the lighting was changing rapidly due to the fast moving tumbling clouds in front of the sun. Before he attacked the girl he would check that there were no Muggles coming up the path from the other side .

They had rounded the bend, the coastal path ahead was clear. Nobody else in sight, only a breathtakingly beautiful view of the rolling hills ahead and the sea glimmering in the light coming down in bright shafts through the gray clouds. The wind blew in crisp gusts from the sea, stronger on the cliff top than below.

Lengthening his stride, he felt the anticipation of the hunt, even if his prey was only a defenseless girl; and this walk along the cliff was a good way to release his stress. Now that he was closing in on her he could observe her better; she was about five feet five inches tall, very slender, slight curves, with tousled shoulder length brown hair, wearing dark blue jeans shorts, a silver belt and a sleeveless, green top; that was very fitting clothing for this occasion, almost Slytherin colours, he thought amused. Voldemort pulled out his wand and took aim, '_Stupefy_.'

The young brown-haired woman must have sensed something in that moment, perhaps her instincts warned her, because she turned to look over her shoulder. A bright red light streaked towards her at an incredible speed like a laser pointer, then something hit her hard, knocking the breath out of her. Blessed darkness clouded her senses in an instant.

~ TBC ~

A/N Thank you for the reviews and adding my story to your Alerts or Favorites.

The title, Something wicked this way comes, is - as I´m sure most of you recognize - a line from Act IV scene 1 of Shakespeare´s play Macbeth.


	5. False face must hide

Chapter 5: False face must hide what the false heart doth know

Disclaimer and Explanations see chapter 1.

~...~

_Last time in Shattered Illusions of Safety, Something wicked this way comes__._

_Voldemort pulled out hi__s wand and took aim, 'Stupefy!'_

_The brunette must have sensed something in that moment, perhaps her instincts warned her, because she turned to look over her shoulder. A bright red light streaked towards her at an incredible speed like a laser pointer, then something hit her hard, knocking the breath out of her, blessed darkness clouded her senses in an instant._

~ ... ~

The Dark Lord quickly banished her backpack and the towel to the cave, he did not want to leave any clues lying around for the muggle police or the Aurors to find. Grabbing the unconscious girl, he Apparated back towards the atrium cave. There he dropped her onto the floor and cast first _'Renervate'_ and right after that a deep sleeping spell on her, before she could do more than moan. It was better to transport a human asleep instead of unconscious, as an unconscious person could choke or suffocate, and this muggle was only of use to him alive and fit enough to drink the poisonous potion in the basin on the island.

He opened the archway as before hissing _{Open}_ and walked briskly along the ledge towards the place where the tiny boat was moored; levitating the sleeping muggle girl carelessly behind him like a piece of luggage.

Reaching the boat, he deftly climbed in and sat down. The girl was slim and lean; it was possible to bend her body tight in a crouching position, so that the two of them fit well into the boat. It was better to keep her sleeping until they reached the island. Flicking his wand at the chain, Voldemort set the boat in motion across the black lake, gliding smoothly above the resting Inferi towards the green light in the centre.

After a few minutes, the boat had reached the island made out of smooth, flat, dark rock. Levitating the girl in front of him, Voldemort climbed carefully onto the firm stones. Dropping her to the ground, he walked up to the pedestal in the middle of the small island with the brightly glowing stone basin atop and peered inside. It was full of the emerald green potion emitting the glow, like a phosphorescent lamp, as it should be.

Voldemort looked around on the small island. There was nothing save him and the muggle girl. Nothing? Where was the corpse of the Black house elf? Well, most likely the Inferi had pulled the dying creature into the lake.

Turning towards the muggle girl, he woke her up with _'Renervate_'. The girl took a deep breath, stirred and moaned quietly, raising one hand to her head, and feeling with the other hand along her hip, her eyes still closed.

He kicked her in the ribs, snapping sharply "Wake up!"

The brown-haired young woman sat up startled, her eyes shot wide open, staring around her in confusion. Another kick got her attention, with a cry she flung herself around on hands and knees, staring up at the sinister figure looming over her. She screamed in fright at the sight of a tall man with a pale, serpentine face and burning red eyes, clothed in a black hooded cloak over black silk robes; the long, pale fingers of his right hand held some short stick pointing towards her like a weapon. This sight was an image right out of a horror, science fiction or fantasy movie.

'He looks almost like Darth Vader or a Nazguhl,' shot through her head. This was bad. She started to scramble backwards to get away from him, only to notice that she was on an very small island surrounded by an unnatural black lake, somewhere underground, in some huge cave. It was illuminated by a green glow.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked in her panic. "What did you do? What do you want from me? Where am I?"

"Now, now, calm down my dear, I only want a small service from you, then I´ll let you go again." Voldemort answered quietly, smirking evilly down on her.

"Yes, sir? What do you need?" the trembling girl asked her scary captor, desperately gasping for breath amidst her panic attack. She thought to herself that she would do anything to escape from this terrible place.

"Stand up, and come here," said the tall wizard, beckoning towards the pedestal in the middle of the island. "You are to drink this potion for me, it should take about ten cups full," he explained, holding out a shining silver goblet towards her.

She scrambled to her feet, took two deep breaths trying to calm down and not to faint and then straightened up. Walking slowly towards the pedestal she glanced at the strange glowing green liquid inside the basin. It gave the impression of some toxic waste!

"Urggh, that looks just gross, disgusting and dangerous. Why should I drink that?" she protested.

Voldemort snarled at the shivering girl, "Because I don´t want to drink it, you fool! Even a stupid muggle like you should understand that."

The brunette recoiled and stared up into his unnatural face, confused and frightened out of her wits, she whispered brokenly, "But, sir, please, why?"

Before she could do or utter anything else, the black robed man pointed his wand at her and commanded impatiently, "_Imperio_".

At once, the tension left the girls face; she reached out for the goblet, calmly took a step closer towards the basin and scooped up the first goblet full of poison. With a content expression on her face, she lifted it to her lips and drank in great gulps, as if this was some delicious cocktail at a friend's party.

Then she scooped up a second goblet and drank it down. Her face contorted in pain; obviously, she started to feel the effects of the poison. Nevertheless, she obediently took a third goblet full and finished it, although slower than the first two. Then she looked at Voldemort with her lips trembling, tears pooling in her eyes and hesitated.

He simply commanded, "Do continue, my dear," in a horribly mock polite tone, reinforcing the _Imperious_ curse; there was no way the girl could resist.

And so she drank two more goblets full, until her stomach was wracked with burning cramps, while her mind was flooded with her most dreadful memories, and she could not remain upright any more.

She collapsed trembling, holding her stomach and crying, "Please, no more. It hurts, it burns. Please, sir, don´t, stop it. Please let me go." Her hands shock so hard that she couldn´t keep her hold on the goblet anymore.

Voldemort quickly bend down and caught the goblet, before it fell to the ground. He filled it again to the rim with potion and held it against her lips.

"Come on, girl, you have finished half of your task, now five more. You are doing just fine. Good girl, you will manage. You must drink some more!" he persuaded her with his most coaxing, silky voice. The Imperious already forced her to obey, but she drank slower, gasping for breath and obviously in great distress.

The Dark Lord did not care; all that mattered was that she drank enough so that he could retrieve his locket. He pushed the thought of the alternative away for now.

She finished the next goblet with more pauses, shaking, sobbing and curling in on herself on the ground, so that he had to pull her up against the pedestal to keep her upright enough to force and coax another goblet down her throat..

"Noooh," the girl whispered, "I can´t. Please make it stop, Please, I´ll do anything else, please, sir, please, let me go, I won´t tell anybody, I only want to go home. Please, it hurts so much, stop. No, please don´t hurt me anymore... Please no more..."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, astonished that she was able to resist the Imperius curse enough to express her distress and wishes verbally. This slip of a muggle girl was much stronger then she looked like. Well that was good in a way, as a weaker person might simply pass out from the overwhelming hysteria, stress and pain.

He decided to change his tactic a bit, first stabilize her because it was clear she could not continue to sit upright on her own; then calming her down somewhat while adding a compulsion charm to his voice, to keep her conscious and focused enough to continue drinking the potion. There was no other way to get down to the bottom of the basin, one could not charm the potion out of the basin or into her, the potion had actually to be drunk. The basin was nearly empty, two or three goblets more should be enough.

Therefore, Voldemort grabbed her shoulder and pulled her close to the foot of the pedestal, so that her back leaned against it again. With a stab of his wand, ropes shot forward and tied her torso to the pedestal, her forearms and hands stayed free so she could continue to press her hands onto her stomach, as she had lain curled up on her side in a desperate attempt to ease the terrible pain in her abdomen. He left her legs free, so that she could bend her legs while sitting and keep her feet on the ground in front of her, in the most comfortable position possible.

Then he knelt down on the floor besides the shivering, desperately crying girl; with one hand, he held the refilled goblet, with his other hand, he pushed her hair out of her face and began to caress her head as if he would pet Nagini.

In a soothing voice, he tried to calm and reassure his victim, "Good girl, you're doing just fine, calm down. I´ll take the pain away as soon as you are finished, as soon as the basin is empty. You can leave this island when the basin is empty. I´ll let you go."

This seemed to comfort her enough, because she stopped crying hysterically and managed to drink several swallows, taking in another goblet full.

When her whole body trembled uncontrollable again, so that potion spilled down her top, he took her chin in a firm grip. Nudging her lips with the rim of the refilled goblet, he crooned with his silkiest voice, amplified by the compulsion charm, "Come on; be a sensible girl, you can do this, just drink one more, only one."

Touching this muggle caused him to shudder in revulsion, nevertheless he was determined to do what had to be done. While continuing to speak in this soothing manner, he coaxed another goblet down her throat, "Good girl, you're doing just fine, Yes, that´s it, good girl, just take another sip."

Voldemort loosened his hold on her to stand up and scrape the hopefully last goblet full out of the basin. He could already see something golden shimmering inside, although he could not touch it, yet. The girl sitting on the ice cold stone floor turned around and held onto his cloak and robes in desperation, so far gone in the haze of terror and pain that she sought warmth and comfort from her tormentor.

He crouched down on the floor again, soothing her with light caresses and meaningless words that worked nonetheless, well, like magic! The _Imperius_ combined with the compulsion charm was fueled by his burning desire to find his locket, and so his magic urged the girl to drink despite her suffering the terrible burning pain.

"Good girl, come, and drink a little bit more."

"Please, it hurts. And I am so thirsty, please give me some water," begged the desperate brunette, shivering uncontrollably, pulling her legs closer to her body and holding one hand pressed against her abdomen, the other clutching onto the heavy black fabric besides her.

"Yes, you can. Good girl, you can drink a bit more. Come on, just another sip. That´s it, fine, you´re a fine girl," Voldemorts charming voice urged her into drinking the rest of the potion despite the fear and anguish it created.

"Nooo! Please, give me some water. It burns, please, no more, don´t."

"Good girl, drink a little bit more, you are nearly finished. I´ll help you, the pain will end soon, very soon."

Finally, the goblet was empty. The Dark Lord rose to his feet. He felt light headed with anticipation, Would it be enough? He peered into the basin. Nearly all of the potion had vanished, he could see the ground of the basin. He scooped the last of the potion out; suddenly it was only a quarter goblet full. He set the goblet aside.

There was a golden locket.

~ TBC ~

A/N. The title is again a line from Shakespeare´s play Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 7, that fit the mood of the chapter.

Special thanks for reviews to Aya Macchiato, cara-tanaka, Harco8059, Mi55-b3cca, Pygmy Puff of Doom, Raven Of Dark, and SunshineAndDaisies. Glad you like it!


	6. Where are they? Gone?

Chapter 6: Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour  
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!

Disclaimer, Warnings, please see chapter 1. Do I need to repeat that?

AN: In this chapter, I have quoted a short passage directly from HBP by J.K.R., page 719, British pocket edition. I am sure everybody will recognize it.

~...~

_Last time in Shattered Illusions of Safety, chapter 5 False face must hide what the false heart doth know:_

"_Good girl, drink a little bit more, you are nearly finished. I´ll help you, the pain will end soon, very soon." _

_Finally, the goblet was empty. The Dark Lord rose to his feet. He felt light headed with anticipation, Would it be enough? He peered into the basin. Nearly all of the potion had vanished, he could see the ground of the basin. He scooped the last of the potion out; suddenly it was only a quarter goblet full. He set the goblet aside._

_There was a golden locket._

_~...~_

Time stood still. The cave and the black lake seemed to revolve around Voldemort standing in front of the glowing basin. He felt like a troll had punched his guts, as if an iron band squeezed his chest, out of breath, like suffocating.

The shivering, crying muggle girl leaning against the pedestal and his legs did not exist for the moment. She had fulfilled her purpose.

There was a _locket_ inside the basin, but it was not _his_ Locket, it was not _Slytherin´s Locket_!

Where was it? Why had the thief placed a substitute, knowing the Dark Lord would find it one day?

Voldemort was - again – enraged, furious, confused. This was the worst day of his life, well after Halloween 1981. His heart sped up to a frantic level. Nothing existed in this moment than the basin with the locket in front of him. Dark magic roared through him, spiked out of him, causing his robes and cloak to sway around his tall, lean form as if caught in an invisible breeze. The ruby eyes burnet like molten lava, fixed in an unseeing stare upon the false locket.

Unfortunately, the wretched muggle girl choose this moment to make her presence known, she moaned and tugged at his cloak, whispering, "Sir? Please sir, is it OK? Please, I need water, I am so thir-"

Ripping his cloak out of her feeble grip, the Dark Lord aimed his wand at her chest, snarling "Avada Kedavra!"

The brunette slumped against the pedestal, a shocked expression on her face.

Voldemort focused back on the locket. His magic had reacted to his turbulent emotions, it crackled around him like an electric charge; the familiar heady rush from the unforgivables coursing through his soul and body.

With an enormous effort, he controlled himself, concentrating on slowing his heart rate and breathing deliberately down, in and out, pushing the emotions – again – behind his Occlumency shields, reining in his dark magic. He just barely resisting the urge to pick up the locket at once.

He reminded himself that he was the Dark Lord; he had decades of magical experience. There were hundreds of ways this locket could be dangerous or deadly, he only had to think of the protective curse he had placed on his ring.

Raising his wand, he started to cast a series of detection charms to check for curses or other magic upon the locket. Was this locket perhaps transfigured, or charmed? Was it maybe a portkey to a holding cell in the Ministry of Magic, activated by his touch, his magical signature?

After twenty minutes, his scans had detected nothing at all. It appeared to be a plain golden locket, nothing more.

Voldemort´s left hand shot out, grasping the locket. He brought it close to his face and examined it. It was smaller than his locket, of a simple design, no markings, and no ornate S like on Slytherin´s Locket. He opened it slowly and carefully with one hand, the other pointing his wand at the locket, ready to throw it away and instantly raise a shield should a masterfully hidden curse manifest itself upon the movement of the hinge. Nothing happened.

Inside was no picture, but a folded scrap of parchment, which he quickly unfolded, tense with expectancy. There was a personal message to him:

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be dead before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.__  
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.__  
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.__  
R.A.B._

Ice cold dread settled in his stomach. Someone _knew_ he had made a Horcrux.

Who was this R.A.B.? Voldemort mentally scanned through the names of established Order of the Phoenix members or Aurors beginning with. B. Well, there was the Bones family, Amelia Bones, at that time she was an Auror, like her brother and father. Then there had been another Auror called Black, Sirius Orion Black, one of Dumbledore´s men. But Sirius was a rash Gryffindor fool, best friend of James Potter; he would have bragged about this if he had been involved. That meant Dumbledore had perhaps not found the cave, yet. The letter sounded as if this R.A.B person was working alone, and – he had definitely used the form of address of a Death Eater towards his Lord.

_To the Dark Lord_

It had been a Death Eater. It took him only a moment to process this new information to come up with a fitting name:

R.A.B. was Regulus Arcturus Black, the younger brother of Sirius Orion Black.

The same young Death Eater that had so suddenly disappeared seventeen years ago, and had later been declared dead by his family. Voldemort remembered whispered rumours from his other Death Eaters, that _he_ had killed the boy for treachery. That had been shortly after Regulus had lent him that houself to test the protections in the cave. His thoughts raced.

"Regulussss." Voldemort spoke the name with a pronounced hissing quality..

How in Salazar´s name had that boy, still in school, found out where the cave was and that a Horcrux was hidden here?

Was Regulus the new Inferius, or did he escape with the locket and left an accomplice here to die?

Perhaps he could summon him, now that he had a name. "Accio Regulus Black´s corpse!" Voldemort called toward the black lake.

There were a few seconds of silence, and then a loud splash shattered the unnatural quiet, echoing eerily of the walls. Something move rapidly towards the island under the surface of the lake; he raised his wand a bit more and sure enough, the body of a dead man left the water and slithered onto the stones, coming to a halt a few feet away. The Inferius scrambled to his feet and took a step towards the Dark Lord.

The body was clothed into a torn black robe and black trousers, the feet bare. Shoulder length black hair, slender build, a once beautifully young, now sickly white face, but still aristocratic; even dead Regulus looked handsome, striking. With the command, "#Rest, guardian, all is well,#" the Inferius turned around on his heel and sloshed back into the lake.

So, this answered at least one question. The traitor Regulus must have had an accomplice that escaped from the cave and took the locket along nearly two decades ago. Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. Who was this companion? A young wizard or a muggle? Another houself? It couldn´t be an adult wizard, because of the boat, could it? On the other hand, perhaps it was an adult wizard, and the both of them had crossed the lake separately? He had not considered this possibility before.

Voldemort paced around the small island, while nervously playing with the locket chain in his hands.  
He stood before an almost impossible task. Slytherins Locket could be anywhere and everywhere – or destroyed? No, he would not assume the worst; he had protected his Horcrux quite well. It could not be damaged, crushed or dissolved by ordinary muggle means or magic. Most likely it was hidden somewhere. How to pick up the trail of the thief after so many years? Was that accomplice Dumbledore or someone entirely different?

Voldemort considered the available evidence. Suddenly he was absolutely sure that the accomplice had not been Dumbledore himself. If it had been an 'Order of the flaming chicken member', then this person must have perished very shortly after leaving the cave:

If Regulus or this supposed accomplice had informed Dumbledore or some Auror where the cave was, this cave would have been raided by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the first war. There would have been traces of other wizards, of their magic, of a huge fight...because the Inferi were cursed to attack anyone that set a foot into the water.  
However, the cave had obviously not been disturbed, save only once about seventeen years ago.

That was a small relief for the Dark Lord; however, Voldemort vowed to himself that he would find his Horcrux, if he had to turn around every stone in Britain!

When he was back at Malfoy Manor, he would speak with those people who had known Regulus best, like Severus or perhaps Rabastan, Avery, Mulciber or one of the other younger Slytherins around 32 to 35 years old. Maybe one of them remembered some small remark from Regulus, which had meant nothing to them, but could give Voldemort a clue.

Harry had known Regulus´ brother, Sirius Black, but only for a short while; well, perhaps Sirius had mentioned his younger brother, told Harry some stories about him? Yes, he would talk to Harry too.

Voldemort stuffed the false locket into his pocket and burned the piece of parchment.

Now the Dark Lord´s prevailing emotion was fury and the desire to strike back: How dare they to attack him personally like this!

Today he discovered that Dumbledore was searching for his Horcruxes, daring to almost waltz into the Gaunt cottage trying to steal the ring, and on top of that a supposedly loyal follower had betrayed him; one of his precious Horcruxes was missing, maybe even destroyed.

He would show the wizarding world, Cornelius Fudge and especially Albus Dumbledore that he was back in full power indeed.

And he would search for His Locket. Whoever stole it would pay dearly.

Darkness shall be unleashed upon the UK.

~ TBC ~

A/N1: The title  
"Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour  
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!" is again a line from Macbeth, Act4, Scene 1, which fit the grim mood of the chapter.

A/N2: So, how did you like this first part of the Additional Scenes? Good? Bad? Tolerable? Please tell me in a review. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

SunshineandDaisys:  
Thanks. But the girl did not really get out of his control. She only managed to resist the Imperious enough to utter her distress; well that is quite a feat for a Muggle, this shows she was a strong character. Not that it helped her at all.


End file.
